An Authentic, Sometimes Gritty, and Always Hopeful Blog for All Who Live with Severe Physical Pain

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

I Need a "Chronic Faith" for my "Chronic Pain"

When I was six and my mom took me to my first day of school at Skipwith Elementary, I skipped into the classroom, excited to see the pretty colors on the walls, and the little wooden desks with their matching chairs. And, of course, all the other kids my age! I enjoyed playing with puzzles, singing songs, and practicing my letters. By lunch time, however, I was getting tired of it all, and when we sat in a circle while the teacher read a book, I was too tired to listen. When my mom arrived, I ran into her arms, glad to be going home to my own toys and neighborhood friends.

Walking out of the room with my mom, I froze, when I heard her say to the teacher, “See you tomorrow!”

“We’re coming back?” I asked my mom, hesitantly.

“Oh yes! You’ll come every day Monday through Friday until you are almost grown-up!”

My six-year old, happy-go-lucky life had come to an end. Attending school was about to become a “chronic condition” for me.

Fast-forward 42 years later, and I was doubly shocked when a physician referred to my pain syndrome, Trigeminal Neuralgia, as a “chronic condition.” Although my life had been altered dramatically by this time, as I had been suffering for almost a year from electrocution-like shocks and burning stabs of pain in my face, I still believed I would eventually find a “cure” and go back to the life I once lived.

It took me a long time to accept this as a “chronic illness”, something that will be a major part of my life until God decides to heal me either here or in Heaven. It’s been five plus years, and I’m still waiting.

I’d like to say I’m good at waiting, but I promise to be honest with you in these posts.. Sometimes, I am good. I wait with great hope and confidence that God is in control, feeling at peace in this belief and energized to help others who suffer. Then, something will happen...some kind of difficult life circumstance, or maybe a sudden increase in pain or a scary new symptom. Or, I’ll simply wake up feeling blah for a few days in a row. Then, I am not so good at waiting. I'll put myself into an isolation chamber of my own making, where I will watch “House” and “Royal Pains” re-runs all day, eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and feel sorry for myself. I'll avoid the phone, as well as the bible beside my sofa. This will go on for one, two or even more days until something will kick my sorry self back on the right path.